Just His Luck
by Xzave
Summary: Simple snow rescue, find the climbers return home and enjoy the rest of Christmas eve. If only.


**A/N Big surprise it's Virgil once again really need to branch out, but probably won't. This could be counted as a one shot following up As luck would have it, don't really know, also took a break from odd one out going to start writing after Christmas. Quite a few holes in this story and poor ending but you will just have to bear with it, tried my best.**

It was 4:27am on the day before Christmas and just moments before, the islanders' were resting peacefully, until the loud bell shrilled through their sleep. Virgil was last to reach the command center, still tired, having only just returned from a solo mission a few hours before. He managed to miss the briefing on the mission. What little information he could gather was "snow", "mountain", and "climbers".

Soon, he was up in Thunderbird 2, following the coordinates Gordon had put in navigation system. Too tired to pay attention to where they were headed, he just thought about getting the mission over and done with as fast as they could.

Climbers trapped on the mountain due to an avalanche seems so fun. They finally reached the danger zone and Virgil put on his snow gear as Gordon took control of his 'bird.

"Ready, Virge?" He asked as they closed in on the mountain. Virgil clipped himself onto the line and gave a thumbs up to his brother, who swiftly opened the hatch.

"Can you see them?" Gordon asked as Virgil reached the ground.

"Not yet. Continue to fly ahead; see if you can spot them from the sky." He replied, letting go of the rope. "I'll see if I can find them on the ground."

"F.A.B, Virgil," he said, ascending further up the mountain.

Virgil looked around, assessing the situation, when a yellow and red hat stuck on a rock caught his attention. He slowly made his way back down the slippery surface to the base of the rock, which he had to climb. Once on top, he reached for the hat, only to hear an abrupt snap. He looked around and then looked down. Apparently he was farther up than he though. He had bypassed the rock and was actually on ice. 'Just my luck. Well, this is going to be fun,' he thought as the ice started to break.

His gear gave him extra grip, not much, but at least it was more than what he would normally have. The important thing was that he found the climbers had come this way, meaning Gordon was going in the right direction. He moved his hand to radio in, but another loud snap echoed through his ears. Loose snow started to slip towards him, causing the one hand holding him steady to slip, and he began to roll down the steep decline.

Even when the rolling steadied out, he continued to slide down on his back, only to hit his head against the rocks. Last he checked, that was 30 feet down from his location. Virgil was too shocked to move his head. He could tell his helmet was split open thanks to the cool air that attacked his aching head. He could feel the blood rushing down his forehead. He moaned loudly, tossing and turning in the snow. He closed his eyes for what felt like hours, unaware of the true time. All he knew was that it hurt.

—•—•—•—

Sometime later, a loud voice resounded in his head, causing him to groan yet again. He laid in silence until he realized it was Gordon informing him of the missing climbers. He stumbled upright, swaying on his feet. "F.A.B," he said automatically, leaving Gordon still unaware of his predicament. Virgil gripped his helmet, pulling it off as gently as he could, then wiped away the blood running down his forehead before it could reach his eyes.

That tumble had actually put him on track towards the climbers, which he was partly thankful for; although, he'd rather have not hit his head. John was down from his 'bird, so he's going have twice as much older brothers' worry. Not to mention their unavoidable anger when they find out about him not telling Gordon he was injured in the first place.

His 'bird came in to view, hovering above the injured climbers. He saw Gordon lower down the…thing. He realized with a jolt that he couldn't remember the name. 'The giant human bucket lifter thing. The... the thing with seats that lift people up to the giant green floating thing. Wait, why am I thinking about this? I need to focus.' Amongst his fractured thinking, he began to see clouds in his vision.

He boarded and gripped the seat beside him. "Ready to go, Gords."

Once further up in the air, Gordon set the course for the nearest hospital, which was 17 miles away. Then, he flicked the switch to activate autopilot. He swiveled his chair and jumped to his feet so he could go give his brother a helping hand, if needed.

As Gordon approached, he saw his brother stumble towards the wall, before leaning the other way, falling towards the solid floor. Virgil would have hit his head if not for Gordon softening his landing. Gordon kneeled above his unconscious brother, noticing the blood running down his head. The happy-go-lucky brother was now mad. Mad at himself for not checking in with Virgil, but mainly mad at the brother stupid enough not to say anything. He walked across the room, grabbing the med-kit and brought it back to Virgil's side. He roughly fell to his knees, quickly taking out bandages and stitches for his brother's head.

One of the climbers who wasn't too injured helped move Virgil to a bed in the med bay. "Well, this is going to be a blast telling the others." Gordon said to no one in particular.

—•—•—•—

Gordon opened the link to the eldest brother. "Guess who's injured with a humongous gash on his head? I'll give you a hint, it ain't this guy," he said, pointing to himself. "I stitched it up the best I could and put a bandage over it, but the rest will have to be done at home. We'll be back in approximately 8 minutes." He finished with a serious note.

The link closed, leaving the eldest Tracy brother to sigh. "Training is done for the day. Let's go Al, we'll set up the med bay, then meet them when they land."

"F.A.B."

Scott was frustrated with his brother's stubbornness. Virgil was rarely hurt. Sure, he had his moments, like when he failed to have his inhaler or the time he was delusional due to... that doesn't matter now. The important part was that his brother was once again injured. Hopefully it wouldn't be bad enough to affect Christmas in any way.

—•—•—•—

Scott met Gordon in the hanger and helped carry Virgil into the medical bay where John was waiting. He had cut his head before, but not like this. From past experiences, they knew Virgil could take really hard hits, so for his head to be in that shape, it was pretty bad.

"How far did he fall?"

"It should have been about thirty feet but I don't think he'd survive that," Gordon stated worriedly, he was frowning at the thought 'thirty feet'. After a moments' pause, he added, "but then again, he could have been lucky enough to slide down rather than fall most of the way."

"Great, the only time I'm down for a break at Christmas, Virgil just happens to be injured."

It was silent after that until Alan walked in with a blanket. He gave it to Scott as John was busy assessing Virgil for any other injuries. Alan held up Virgil's helmet, causing the other three brothers to look between their unconscious brother and his mangled helmet with growing concern in their eyes.

"I take back what I said. 'Could have been lucky,' is now very lucky." Gordon said as a shiver ran down his spine.

"Oh, that's not even the worst part." Alan said, looking down at the helmet in his hands. They were made for just about anything: extreme heat, extreme cold, high pressure under water, etcetera. What Alan did next caused concerned silence to once again flood the room. He tore it apart with hardly any effort.

"Do you think he may have brain damage?" Gordon asked quietly. This wasn't the first time Virgil had been at risk of brain damage, and unfortunately, it probably wouldn't be the last.

—•—•—•—

Gordon woke an hour later. He doesn't remember falling asleep. At some point, he was moved to an infirmary bed, probably by Scott. He was silently thankful, his back would have cramped up if he slept in that chair for long. He saw Scott and Alan still by Virgil's side so he swung his feet over the bed, padding over to rejoin them in the waiting game.

They talked for a while about anything and everything until Alan suddenly poked Scott in the ribs. Gordon would have laughed at the way Scott flinched, but he, like Alan, noticed the fluttering of Virgil's eyes. When his eyes were fully open, John took the little pen light to checked the dilation of his pupils.

"What were you thinking, you could have caused a lot of trouble, is that what you wanted?" Scott asked angrily.

They could all see the tears building in his eyes. "I didn't mean to, no... I'm sorry," his voice cracked.

Scott's tone immediately softened because they all knew he didn't cry in front of anyone. "No... Virge, I didn't mean it like that. I... I just meant we were worried."

A few minutes ticked by, his tears all but disappeared, then Gordon broke the silence, asking the question they all wanted to know the answer to. "How'd you fall, Virge?"

Virgil looked confused for a moment before replying, "I rolled because the snow fell."

"How far?" Alan asked.

"I rolled for a bit."

"What about your helmet?"

"When the rolling stopped, I was sliding on my back then there was a loud cracking noise, but I was busy looking at the sky."

They knew he didn't exactly answer the questions the way they wanted him to, but he did answer them to some degree, and that would probably be the best they could get for a while. John had slipped back in the room without any of them noticing, but he brought good news after talking with Brains up in Thunderbird 5. Virgil, as his luck had it, would be cleared to go within the next couple of hours but he would mostly likely have a major headache and was advised lots of rest.

—•—•—•—

It was a long day, now 10:23pm. The five brothers sat watching an old movie from the 2010 decade. Well, four of the brothers were watching it. The middle Tracy was sleeping, his head resting on the lap of the second eldest while his legs went across the lap of the fourth-born son. On the other couch, the youngest son was leaning against the eldest, almost drifting off into his own slumber. That was the way their father found them after he returned from his business trip. He was worried, knowing what had happened earlier that day, but he could see Virgil was peaceful, and decided to check up on his son at a later time.


End file.
